The Writer
by xjumpthenfall
Summary: Bella has always had a crush on her English teacher, Ms. Cullen. Ever since Sophomore year. Bella is in college right now, her and Alice have been talking more and more. Bella still has it secret that she has feelings for Alice. It turns out, Bella isn't the only one keeping secrets. (Based on the song The Writer by Ellie Goulding).


The cold winter air kept pulling me back into reality. This night was real. I was here. At her house. A week shy of nineteen. Her many books were sprawled out on the living room floor and breezes traveled into the house from the many windows in her house that were cracked open. A glass of wine was on her round table, a glass of water was next to it. This reminded me of our age difference, and how I'm way in over my head.

The clock above her fireplace just struck eleven, and she was reading me her favorite chapter of Farenheit 451. This briefly reminded me of her reading to my whole class some odd years ago. It was different, though.

It has been over a year since I last saw her. Sure, we stayed in touch online, but she has work and I have college. A few hours ago we ran into each other at Barnes & Noble. She was behind me in line at the Starbucks that was gracefully in the store. We ended up talking for a good hour, and she had to go home to start grading papers. I thought that it was goodbye until she invited me over to help.

And here we are, on her couch. My legs were crossed on the floor and she was sitting Indian style, facing me. I looked over every few minutes as she read. Her honey eyes would flicker over to mine and it would feel as if a fireball hit my chest. I would always look away in a quick manner. She still makes me nervous. From the corner of my eye, I saw a smile.

"What do you think?" She asked me just as I was taking a sip of water.

"It was sort of..." I struggled to find the right word. "Depressing."

"Well, yes. They are destroying books and this is a very depressing subject."

A soft laugh spilled from my lips and she joined in as well. "Interesting, though." I pointed at the book on her lap. "I like it."

"I'm glad." She smiled at me and I never left her sight. She looked down and tilted her head slightly. I looked down and my necklace needed to be adjusted. "Oh." I blurted out.

"Why do you always wear that?" She asked. "I've never seen you not wear it."

That surprised me. She noticed something about me. Something personal. I looked down at the golden heart with a four-leaf clover and a diamond in the middle. "This was my Grandma's. Her son gave this to her a few weeks before he passed away from a motorcycle accident. She never took it off, and I learned after she passed, she wanted me to have it. So now I'm the one who never takes it off." I shrug, smiling sadly at her. Telling the story to someone always makes my mood heavy.

"That's beautiful." She whispered, her eyes moving back and forth from my necklace to me. You could simply from her body language that she was touched by the story. Everyone always is.

To lift up the sudden low vibe, I joked. "Why do you always wear that?" I asked stupidly, pointing at her ring that she has been twirling on her finger for the last few minutes.

She looked down and laughed a little bit. "That's a story for a different day."

We ended up talking for two more hours. Sometimes we would just sit in silence, nothing would be said. It was like we had to take a break and reflect on the subjects we talked about. Nothing quite major, just light subjects. As we kept talking I could tell she would want to go deeper into my mind, but something was always pulling her back. Eventually, it was two in the morning.

"I should probably get going." The drive home wasn't so bad, about fifteen minutes or so depending on the traffic.

"Well, thank you so much for coming." Alice said sincerely, and led me to the door. She opened it up and I should have left, but I was just standing there.

"We should do this again sometime." I said out in a rush, not wanting to stutter or mess anything up by any means.

"Of course." She said simply. Simple. There was never any hesitation in her voice. No stutter. No flaws. She was literally perfection.

We said our goodbyes and I walked to my beat-up truck. My name is Bella. And I'm pretty sure tonight was the best night of my life.


End file.
